


Not According To Plan

by getupandgo2011



Series: Covin [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emperor Hux, Enemies to Lovers, Hux learns emotions, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, M/M, Prompt Fic, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6631375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/getupandgo2011/pseuds/getupandgo2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt: "Hux seduces Ren to use his powers to his own ends but ends up falling in love with him."</p>
<p>Hux has always wanted to become the galaxy's Emperor. Kylo Ren will allow him to achieve that (if only he can make it look real)</p>
<p>Featuring: cunning Phasma, betting stormtroopers, Millicent the cat, enemies to lovers and the events of The Force Awakens</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not According To Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IggyLikesPie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IggyLikesPie/gifts).



> Thank you to politicalmamaduck for being my beta on this fic! It's very much appreciated! 
> 
> This is the first time I've ever written Kylux or done a fic exchange, and I've had a lot of fun doing it!

******

They know one another for all of nine minutes and thirty seconds before General Hux hates Kylo Ren. He is more than sure the feeling is mutual, judging by the disdainful huff of breath exchanged at his back as the knight stomps away, black curtain flowing behind him. Hux turns away to his screens, watching the crew unloading Ren's shuttle, hands tight behind his back. It is not uncommon for him to dislike somebody of equal authority- the incompetent general of the once great _Victory I_ could attest to that- but rarely with this level of tension churning in his belly, palms aching from the pressure of his fingers curled into fists. The scowl on his face deepens into something much more permanent.

Hux has not allowed someone to bother him to this extent in an incredibly long time.

  
  


“Phasma.”

“Sir?”

She stops to stand beside his shoulder, hands clutching her blaster tightly as they survey the bridge around them. The troopers removing the goods from the garish black shuttle in front of them straighten significantly when Phasma steps up, working more intently than before. She has led his father's stormtroopers like no-one else has before her, Hux appreciates that more than he probably should.

“Your thoughts on Lord Ren?”

Hux relaxes his grip, letting his hands come to rest upon the railing. There has been a vague sense of disbelief among the crew of the _Finalizer_ ever since Supreme Leader Snoke announced that Hux would soon enough have a co-commander without an actual military background (it feels like punishment, to have his leadership taken away after only four short years).

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted.”

In the six years, seven months and four days General Hux has known Captain Phasma, her opinion has rarely been wrong. If any Force sensitive people had survived Snoke's purge, he would easily believe her to be one of those. Phasma shifts beside him, a trooper drops a box of what is presumably Ren's Sith supplies with fright at the clanking of her armour. Neither of them comment upon it, though Hux can only imagine the mental checklist Phasma is running down watching the stormtroopers in front of them.

“I believe he will bring us more than a little trouble.”

  
  
  


******

Phasma is not wrong.

Kylo Ren is more than just trouble. He is an infuriating, petulant overgrown child of a man. His Force mysticism is little more than a magician's trick, no matter what Snoke tells them all about Ren's abilities. _The bridge between light and dark_ , indeed.

Hux spends the majority of his time planning attacks against the Resistance, stalking the halls of the ship in his great-coat, or signing off on highly expensive equipment requests. Kylo Ren seems to appear from nowhere after days of having seemingly vanished, standing over unnerved officers on the bridge, looming like a demented, skinny crow until they are seemingly terrified enough for his twisted satisfaction.

  
  


“What are you doing?”

The ice in his voice is enough to make Ren stop his temper tantrum.

At least this time Ren doesn't go directly to choking him with the Force, hand twitching with the effort of holding him aloft from the metal flooring (his record is just under three feet to then cracking the poor officer against the ceiling until Phasma had intervened). Instead he stops, head tilted as he peers through the slits in the black bucket of his, lightsaber buzzing at his side. Beside him, a console costing seventeen thousand credits from the planets under the control of the First Order, takes its last breath through the slashes in the holo screen. Hux forces himself not to scream at the man in front of him, determined to keep his professionalism even if he's lost control of everything else since Kylo Ren had landed on his ship in that shuttle of his.

  
  


“What does it matter to you, General?”

“Don't answer a question with a question.”

Hux stalks forward, boots crunching on the glass littering the floor, trying to ignore the tension headache beginning to thump against his temples. If there wasn't so much to do be done with the plans for the future weapon against the Resistance, Hux would have complained to anybody who would listen about Ren's seemingly incapability of acting like an ordinary, emotionally adjusted human being. Ren's shoulders hunch when Hux stops less than a foot away, hands behind his back. From this distance, Hux won't have to tilt his head back to see the mask, can be of equal standing in front of him.

“It won't happen again.”

Ren's voice is almost petulant, he imagines, through the voice modulator, though it is difficult to tell. Hux stands his ground, keeping his expression as neutral as he can in this current situation, watching the console still sparking violently.

“It had better not, I won't be the one reporting to Supreme Leader Snoke about your childish reactions to difficulties.”

The words sound like knives slicing into flesh as they leave his mouth. Ren lets out a sharp breath, his free hand begins to tremble where it hangs by his side. So quick tempered over any possible slight about his capabilities, or mentions of his Master. Hux knows when to use those words wisely, has avoided being dragged up by an invisible hand only be sending officers to deal with the worst of the problems.

“Do not speak to me of difficulties. I heard that you can't even find a planet to build your weapon on.”

  
  


It's not a lie.

Finding a planet they can subtly build on without every armed ship in the wretched Republic bearing down upon them has been difficult. Hux's plans are perfect to the letter, thought up over the years as he rose through the ranks of the First Order with only one thought in his mind: he wanted to crush the Republic with such strength that he could one day rule as Emperor of them all. His father had wanted the same, but had been too weak and pathetic by the fall of the Empire to do little but wait to be die in his bed.

Ren knows this as well as Hux does. He's observed every scouting mission they've performed, from Hoth to Rakata Prime, tapping his gloved fingers on the railings with an air of knowledgeable superiority. It takes all of Hux's tolerance to not want to punch it out of him. Snoke's own patience had begun wearing thin months ago, it is only a matter of time before they just invade a Republic base and build it there (Hux hopes not, it would be a dreadful waste of resources). He lets himself relax only a little in the shoulders, because though he would like nothing more than to let his frustrations out on the man in front of him, that would do little more than cause yet another rampage in the form of equipment mutilation.

  
  


“Be careful what you say, Ren. Make sure this does not happen again.”

He turns to walk away, his head pounding beneath the weight of his growing headache. Kylo Ren may not care what they are trying to accomplish, he has his own tasks free from the bureaucracy of the Order and sometimes Hux wishes he would _just_ do them, though he will not have the _Finalizer_ smashed into pieces by the time that work is done. Nothing is said in reply, though his words must have made some kind of an impact if the slashing doesn't start up again by the time the door slides shut.

He'll wait a while before sending in the clean up crews.

  
  


**

“We have found your planet, Lord Ren.”

Hux wants to knock the little cap from Mitaka's head as the man speaks. Ren doesn't even turn from his contemplation of the stars, holding onto the railing with a speculative air. For all the months of work they had put in to finding a planet suitable of hosting a weapon like his plans demanded, they had found virtually nothing (the few planets capable had already been underneath Republic control, and Hux wanted to avoid losing the troopers in pointless battles for as long as possible-- no matter how capable Ren claimed to be at leading attacks). Only a vision from Ren- after sixteen days spent locked in his chambers, the most peaceful time the ship had seen since Kylo Ren's arrival, had he announced the coordinates to a desolate, little ice planet in the middle of absolute nowhere. This had allowed them to proceed slightly behind schedule.

“Dismissed, Lieutenant. Thank you,” he says when it becomes painfully obvious Ren has no intention of saying anything in response. Mitaka turns away with a stiff back, his pale hands trembling at his sides, practically running back to his station. The amusement floating from the black robed man beside him is all too evident, the smug child practically radiates with pride. Hux refuses to give him the satisfaction of being right; he wants his bridge back from beneath the hands of Kylo Ren as soon as possible, inflating the man's ego will make that only more difficult.

  
  


“You should be more grateful, General. I found your base for you.”

Ren says after a long moment, head still turned towards the viewports, crossing his arms over his chest. The lightsaber on his belt shifts with the movement; Hux forces himself to stop staring at the details on the hilt. He rolls his shoulders subtly beneath his great-coat, wishing earnestly for a shower and some time to just think of his plans for the future in peace (planning to one day be Emperor requires a great amount of consideration).

“Perhaps I'll be more grateful when the weapon is built.”

“That's not my mission.”

“If you had orders from Leader Snoke, I would know of them.”

Hux knows that the Supreme Leader has wanted to destroy the Republic since before he had even been born, the being- he is not sure what Snoke is, man or monster- having lived a thousand more lifetimes than he ever will. He is also confident in his mutually beneficial relationship with the First Order's primary benefactor- that he is still of use as long as he is working himself to the bone for the regime born from the Empire's mistakes. Kylo Ren, however, has no need to prove himself to anybody, just his capabilities with the 'Force' are enough to have Snoke give him virtually free reign with their resources until he is needed.

  
  


“We land in three days time. The climate is below freezing, according to the recently acquired data. Life is easily sustainable so we need not fit the troops with anything but the regulation winter gear. Work on the base will begin as soon as we land.”

Hux elects to ignore whatever Ren could say, scrolling through pages on his data pad as he speaks, taking in all the relevant information for the foundation work on the base. The scowl on his face begins to feel lighter than it has in years, the situation seems less damning than it did when he dragged himself from a night at his desk into the shower just under sixteen hours ago. Ren shifts beside him, uncrossing his arms restlessly, knotting his fingers together until the gloves covering them creak. Hux isn't completely certain that he is simply moving, and not intending to infuriate him into committing homicide. He refuses to leave his bridge now, with the good news of _Starkiller_ 's soon to be existence hanging over his head, just because of a man-child attempting to take up more space than completely necessary.

  
  


It takes only a minute for Kylo Ren to sweep away haughtily, stomping through the doors of the bridge. Hux smiles just barely, lips hardly lifting at all.

  
  


******

_It would be wise not to torment him._

The message appears on his data-pad just as Hux is retiring to bed, determined to sleep the entire night through no matter what building emergencies may arise (he has not managed to rest for more than three hours in the two months since the work on _Starkiller_ began). He sighs- loud enough for Millicent to hiss in his direction, rolling away to the far side of the bed- and tugs the data-pad into the bed with him. The lights are lowered enough that the headache building at his temples is dulled enough to focus his gaze on the screen.

_Who exactly am I tormenting, Captain?_

_Kylo Ren._

Barking out a laugh, Hux shakes his head in the direction of the refresher. It is one thing for Phasma to practically be the mother to her troops- for all that they force it out of them at a young age, some still look towards authority in a familial light without requiring reconditioning- but another to try and be a parent to Kylo Ren. Hux wonders not for the first time what he did to his family in order to become a fledgling Sith lord beneath Lord Snoke, if that is the reason he wears a black bucket instead of showing his face to them all.

_Kylo Ren is the bane of my existence._

_You can use his abilities to your advantage, sir. Your ambitions would benefit from his use of the Force, should you want to use them._

  
  


His ambitions indeed.

Having known Phasma the longest of any officer on the ship, it has never been a secret between the two of them about his intentions to one day rule the galaxy as its Emperor. Not even Snoke could dream of such a high position of authority. The creation of his weapon- _his Starkiller_ \- is the foundation for even larger, more permanent intentions for the future. Using Kylo Ren, pupil to the only known Sith remaining since the collapse of the Empire, against Snoke would only quicken his plans, it would seem. Hux is delighted by Phasma's cunning.

  
  


_You thought this through, didn't you?_

_Of course, General. I'm always looking out for this ship._

Hux narrows his eyes at the wall in front of him, thinks for a moment, and stands to put on his coat and boots. Never mind the tiredness gritting at his eyes, nor the thought of sleep.

He has work to do.

  
  


**

Finding Kylo Ren on their new base is harder than it should be.

Not that there's much to wander, at the moment, with construction moving just behind schedule for the past three months. Hux has taken to pacing the half built corridors at all hours of the day, buried beneath more layers than he is comfortable wearing (hailing from a planet in which snow had been the biggest novelty of the year has made him more than a little susceptible to the cold). The woods around the base have became Kylo Ren's new hunting ground, he trains throughout the day in the centre of blizzards, and passers by can see flashes of red surrounded by snow at odd hours of the day through the viewports. Hux has caught stormtroopers laying bets on how often he hits the nearest tree with his buzzing lightsaber, and he knows for a fact that Phasma placed fifteen credits on ten times per training session.

  
  


Into the woods, it is then.

Hux, for all that he despises the cold, enjoys seeing the base as it is built from the outside. Five years of strategic planning and thought had gone into seeing the weapon built to its full potential, with Snoke's resources and the ground crew working in sixteen hour shifts, _Starkiller_ would be ready within the next two years. He tightens his grip on the inside of his pockets, carefully holding onto the blaster attached to his belt through the fabric, as he crunches through inches of snow. The guards all lower their heads, white masks showing nothing, though they all know where he is going when he reaches the perimeter of the base.

  
  


Nothing moves in the trees around him, as the sparse wildlife had been driven away by the drilling and digging of the foundations to the safer parts of the planet. Hux cannot even hear the ever constant wind over the sound of snow hitting the pine needles beneath his feet, his ears are chilled despite his hat. He seems to walk for hours, though it can't be more than half an hour; when he turns, he can see the base behind him, rising triumphantly through white blanketed snow and black, shadowy trees. Eventually all the noise that can be heard is the sound of his feet as he walks, the falling snow and the buzzing of an incredibly unstable lightsaber as he nears its owner.

  
  


It is in the next clearing that he sees him, incapable of being camouflaged in his black robes and dented helmet. Kylo Ren moves through motions smoothly, almost like he is practising in water, spinning the bloody lightsaber in one hand as he twirls through the air. A tree sparks in front of him before slowly toppling backwards with a crash, the sound seeming not to resonate to the other man. He lunges forward to the side, outstretching his free hand as he lets the lightsaber fly through the air and crash into the nearest sapling before pulling it back into his grip. Hux stands silent, almost awed, watching this dance with wide, surprised eyes. He can see the benefits of having such a man on his side, once he moves past the childish destruction and inability to follow orders, when the day should come. The carefully planned operation (titled, as all of his personal plans are, under the name of _Millicent V_ ) all depended upon Ren's reaction to his attention, whether it be hostile or genuinely touched (Hux sincerely doubts Ren can feel any form of emotion other than rage, but is willing to be shown otherwise).

  
  


“I can hear you from here.”

Ren turns towards him, barely making a sound as his robe moves with the slight breeze. Hux forces himself to stand straighter, to look as if the cold isn't freezing him from the inside, to stare disdainfully at the lightsaber in Ren's hand.

“Stop knocking down the trees, you'll take away our cover.”

Something that could be a laugh comes from Ren, though it is difficult to tell with the voice modulator. Small specks of white dust the shoulders and arms of the black monk's robes, looking for a moment almost like a night's sky. He deactivates the lightsaber, taking away the red reflection from his helmet and leaving the two of them in the dim light of the day.

“As if that really matters, General.”

“What does matter to you, Lord Ren?”

The question seems to stun him, he carefully holsters the lightsaber, head lowered as if ashamed of whatever thoughts rose to the surface with Hux's question.

“Why do you hide away now that we have landed?”

Hux asks instead. To this he receives no answers, but Ren lifts his head slowly, the helmet tilted to the side as if considering. He wishes he could see Ren's face beneath the faded metal, to see his eyes. It would make what he is about to do much easier, if he could get some form of visual connection with him (or maybe he is just curious).

  
  


“You want me to remove my mask.”

Ren's voice is soft, he strides forward two steps confidently, boots creaking in the snow. Hux has never been this close to the man, prefers to keep their conversations to a minimum of fifteen minutes per day, with the occasional contact by comm if Ren is off ship (this has happened only twice, once to collect a crystal of some kind of deliver to Snoke and another to fight off Resistance pilots from one of their planets). He realizes that his thoughts have begun to spiral, they have been standing in silence for longer than intended.

“Yes.”

“I've never done this for anyone before. Why should I do it for you?”

If he sounded confident before, he is hesitant now, faced with an impossible choice. No-one in the First Order has ever seen the face of Kylo Ren except for Supreme Leader Snoke, though everyone had their ideas of what he looked like beneath the mask. Old, bald, horrifically scarred or mutilated from his past deeds as a Jedi hunter. The possibilities for why Kylo Ren hides behind his bucket of a mask and underneath his robes are endless.

Hux walks forward, not wanting to spook Ren away now, not when they've gotten so far. Ren makes no move to step back, still waiting for an answer to his quiet question. Hux breathes in sharply, lungs burning from the cold, licks his chapped lips.

“So I can see you. As the man you are, not the monster in children's nightmares.”

The snow falls faster than before, landing in Hux's eyelashes, his hat doing little to stop the dampness from touching his face. He watches Ren in a way he never has before, searching for any sign of deliberation in the tight shoulders, the compulsively clenching fingers of his right hand. His left rises to the mask, traces the silver outlining around the eyes almost reverently. Hux wonders if Ren made this mask himself, younger than he is now, with his own hands. What it would have taken to plunge oneself into suffocating darkness.

The sound of the helmet de-pressurizing makes Hux's heart thump loud in his chest. In mere seconds, tiny breaths, he will be the first to see Kylo Ren's face.

“Are you ready, General?”

Ren asks, seemingly ready to lift the helmet off with one hand if he must. Hux lets out a slow breath at the sound of his voice, modulated as he is used to hearing it after all this time. He must not let himself get carried away in whimsy, not with so much on the line.

“I am.”

  
  


Kylo Ren is not scarred. Nor is he old, bald, burned or horrifically mutilated as most thought he would be. If anything, it is his youth that is the reason for wearing the mask.

His face is pleasant enough to look at, not conventionally handsome in any sense of the word, but nice to look at. Hux could see himself looking at this face more often. Kylo Ren's skin is pale even against the snow around them, misleadingly fragile looking. It is the dark eyes that Hux feels as if he recognises- from years ago, watching the holo broadcast of a state Republic wedding, celebrated by systems for months- this version of Kylo Ren, huge and wide in his face, bruises of exhaustion deep beneath his eyes.

“Well?”

Hux nods to himself more than to Ren, a smile grazing his lips. Somehow, he should have imagined Kylo Ren to look like this, dark haired and so young looking, instead of a demon with a scarred face. Ren's eyes narrow sharply, a spark lights up the iris. He is listening.

“Am I too your satisfaction, General?”

“You are, Lord Ren.”

Ren's mouth twitches into a smile. Hux moves forward enough to tilt his head back, firmly disobeying any personal space rules outlined by the Order, gazing up into Ren's face. His eyes flicker over everything, stopping continuously on the constellation of freckles above his right eyebrow, the one in his cheek, the smaller and less noticeable ones on the rest of his face. Ren shifts under the attention, picking at his robe with his right hand.

******

Later on, in the safety of his chambers, clutching his unimpressed cat close to his chest, Hux will not recall who kissed who first.

Only that they were watching each other, smiles long faded, like two weary predators, careful not to frighten the other one away. And in the next moment, Kylo Ren had surged forward just as he had, the two of them reaching without thinking for the other.

  
  


Hux learns in that moment Ren's lips are warm against his own chilled mouth, and surprisingly soft. His breath is sweet, like he's been swigging the officer's secret stash of mead before meetings, but not unpleasantly so. It is obvious he hasn't had the chance to do this before, and it has been a long time since Hux let anyone kiss him.

He rises on his toes to grab the hair at the back of Ren's neck, tangling his fingers in the dark waves. Ren moans softly into his mouth, his own gloved hands gripping the lapels of Hux's great-coat tightly. They kiss for a long time, Hux opens his eyes and there is snow in the shadow of Ren's eyelashes, in his hair. He grins into the next kiss when it comes, tugging at the hair wrapped around his hand, listening for the sounds it causes Ren to make.

  
  


Eventually, exhausted and weak kneed from lack of oxygen, they stop to breathe. Ren looks wrecked, eyes huge in his face, colour high in his cheeks. He is smiling again, almost beautiful in the half light. Hux lets his hands wrap around the dark robed shoulders, tugs him down so they can see each other face to face (the height difference is an annoying obstacle he will have to find a way around). Ren leans closer, presses his face into Hux's shoulder and makes a sound that could be a laugh, his hands still holding him tight.

Hux lifts his gaze to the distance, green eyes sparkling in a face closed off from the world, mind whirring as he remembers the plan.

This will get him far, if he can make it last.

  
  


******

The plan for Hux's eventual coup against Snoke and his rise to become the galaxy's emperor is as follows, hidden in his private directory under the name of _Millicent V –_ his plans for _Starkiller_ had been the first of such projects, all stepping stones to his future as a great ruler.

  
  


  1. _Seduce Kylo Ren away from Supreme Leader Snoke and convince him to take up arms against his former Master._

  2. _Use his capabilities with the Force and as a trusted apprentice to gain Snoke’s approval, which will lead to him being easily defeated._

  3. _Prepare for possible resistance within the older members of the First Order. Be ready to execute the toxic naysayers within moments of achieving the goal._

  4. _Make sure Kylo Ren does not know seduction is taking place. Be genuine, even loving if necessary. Make him believe this is not a ploy._

  5. _This is the manipulation._

  6. _Never let Kylo Ren know otherwise._

  7. _Achieve the goal even if it means your eventual death._




  
  


******

“General.”

“Ren.”

The days continue on- Hux oversees the building of the weapon, bent over blueprints until all hours of the day, headache permanently at the base of his skull, while Kylo Ren hacks down trees in his training and terrifies officers on the bridge with his lurking- as they had before. To the officers and crew of _Starkiller_ (split evenly between the _Finalizer_ in rotating shifts) the only difference is that Ren hovers more, which could simply be put down to his infuriation at the pace of the project. Their meetings with Snoke had become more fraught with impatience from their Leader, normally ending with Ren promising him something no-one could give: the location of the few Force-sensitives left after the purge.

Nothing had changed.

  
  


“Do we need to have a conversation?”

Hux asks. Ren stops leaning against the console furthest from the centre of the room, stalking over to the immense relief of the officer sitting in front of it. He stops beside Hux, mask firmly in place, and crosses his arms like a child expecting to be scolded.

_Do you want to have a conversation?_

Denying that he flinches won't take away the fact that he does at Ren's casual invasion of his mind. He knows that the other man uses his abilities on the rebel spies they occasionally find on Order planets, has heard the interrogations from four floors away; he never expected the feeling to be like dipping into ice water, stark and raw and painful.

_Don't do that._

“I don't think we do.”

Ren mutters through the helmet. With the mask on, and now that Hux has seen his face, it feels strange not to meet eyes when he turns to face Ren. The other man's hand lingers over the saber strapped to his belt, fingers curled around the hilt.

_I meant do we have to have a conversation about our situation._

_Oh, so you're fine with talking like this now?_

Hux's eyes flicker to where Ren's eyes would be behind the mask. He can only imagine the expression on the man's face, the anger in those dark, dark eyes.

_Unless you wish to announce to the whole ship what happened between us._

_Come with me._

  
  


Ren turns and swishes out of the room, striding purposefully through the doors at a quick pace. Nothing out of the ordinary, Hux knows, as most of their conversations end like this. Most officers don't even look up, the few that do look surprisingly guilty as they glance back at their screens. Hux waits just under three minutes before sighing loudly, making his on way to the doors. He passes Phasma in the hallways, she nods in his direction as she marches a section of troopers through to sanitation. A black robed man lurks in the space just outside of his own quarters, leaning heavily against the wall like he has every right to be here. All he needs is to cross his arms and he would pass for every Rebel pilot Hux has ever seen.

  
  


“You have to stop thinking about what happened, you're unnerving the crew.”

Hux says sharply, considering whether or not he should allow Ren entry into his chambers. Decides against it when he remembers the unfortunate smashing habits of the man beside him. Ren mutters something too low for the voice modulator to catch, standing a little straighter and attempting to loom like a demented crow.

“The crew deserve to be unnerved sometimes. It improves character.”

He answers, traces of humour lingering in his voice. Hux is almost instantly infuriated. Ren has inspired this in him from the moment they met, the ability to make the slightest action a personal irritation.

“We're not discussing character, I want to discuss what happened in the snow.”

“What's to discuss?”

Ren is taking off the mask, as if they aren't in the brightly lit hallway during the middle of the work cycle, and letting it dangle in one hand. His hair is sweat soaked from the time underneath the helmet, eyebrows lowered into a tight, annoyed frown.

“Do you want to do it again?”

Hux asks. Ren's eyebrows raise in bemusement, a smile touching his face. His answer depends upon the plan's success (so many variables at play here, one more unpredictable than any other). He moves forward until there is less than a few inches between the two of them, lowering his dark head to press his lips to Hux's.

“I would.”

He murmurs into the kiss, wrapping his left hand into Hux's coat and pulling him forward, moving backwards until they are pressed up against the doors of his chambers. Hux pushes himself up onto his tiptoes, cradles Ren's jaw in his hand and kisses them both senseless, until he can feel every emotion Ren pushes his way through the Force.

_(So proud, so pleased with himself, in awe at the strength of this man, and something else entirely that neither of them will touch with a ten foot pole)_

_'I might have to enjoy this, my orders come soon.'_

Hux doesn't say anything in response, but there is a sudden desperation to the next kiss.

  
  


When he pushes the fingerprint scanner in his haste to climb Ren like a tree, they both fall through the doors in a tangle of limbs and robes. Ren laughs into his mouth as they crash onto the floor, bursting into something that would resemble giggles on someone less prone to mass murder. Hux shuts him up easily enough.

Later, lying on the floor still fully clothed and staring at the man lying beside him on his back, Hux is more than pleased that his obsession for personal privacy has for once paid off in full. (Even if Phasma does think it will one day get him killed.)

  
  


FP-2167 doesn't mention that on her rounds she finds Kylo Ren's dented helmet lying on its side beside the doors of General Hux's chambers. She just nudges her partner, takes the fourteen credits he hands her and continues on to the bridge.

  
  


******

And then it starts.

The first time is hasty, pressed up against the doorway of Hux's office in the dead of night. He has not had sex in over four years, Ren whispers that he has but they both know that he probably hasn't. It is sudden, like the first and second and third kisses on the floor of Hux's chambers, and completely unexpected. They go from arguing over the locations of possible Resistance allies to fucking practically in public within an hour. Ren pants against his throat, biting bruises into Hux's skin with sharp teeth, making him gasp out loud. He is eternally grateful, in this moment, that no-one would dare visit so late at night except for Kylo Ren. Most of their clothes- except for Hux's gloves and Ren's black under shirt- are scattered behind them, littering Hux's desk. Ren bites his throat again, enough to make him almost rip the hair out of the other man's head at the shiver that runs through him.

“Are you nearly done?”

He hisses into Ren's ear, trying to move his hips at some pace that will satisfy them both to reach the end. Having not been pre planned or prepared for, Hux is at a loss of what he was supposed to do. Seducing Kylo Ren, bring him over to his side is one thing. Actually putting said plan into action is another.

“Shut up.”

  
  


They both finish within seconds of each other, Ren almost dropping them both to the floor as his knees buckle. Hux presses his face into the freckled, pale shoulder in front of him, nipping at the skin with his own teeth as payback for the bruises that will show above his collar tomorrow. Ren has one fist buried in the door above their heads, the other arm holding Hux mostly around his waist against the wood. Obviously there is some form of Force mysticism here, Ren is strong but not like this. He shakes sweat soaked red hair from his face after a moment, still breathing heavily as he pulls back to stare at the disaster zone his office had become as they both came.

“You've just destroyed my things.”

Ren, having gathered himself, gently lowers Hux to the floor and turns to look at the room, back shifting with his breaths. His data pad is embedded in the wall, the desk overturned and lying on it's side, their clothes a messy tangle around the lighting in the ceiling. There is a collection of Empire coins floating over their heads like a child's mobile. Hux is suddenly struck by the sheer enormity of what they have done. Hux’s plans have accelerated beyond what he he had intended for this time, seduction had never seemed to move so quickly on paper.

  
  
  


“I'll fix this.”

Ren mutters guiltily, raising one long fingered hand into the air. Coins are carefully dropped back into their box at the swipe of his fingers, desk turning upright. Nothing can be done to salvage his data-pad, though luckily he will not have to explain this to anyone- one of the benefits of being the highest in the chain of command on board. Their clothes slowly lower to the floor, still wrapped together but at least reachable. Hux stares at Ren's back for a long moment, the raised red lines from his own nails, the sweep of his dark hair on the back of his neck.

  
  


“Leave it. Come here.”

Hux demands. Ren turns slowly, eyebrows lifting up in bemusement as a slow smile grows on his face. He is almost grinning by the time he moves back towards Hux, hands outstretched as if he is asking for permission.

“What do you want from me?”

Ren murmurs as he lowers his face to press a kiss to the corner of Hux's mouth, wrapping his arms around his naked waist, eyes glinting in a face flushed with colour. He is almost overwhelmingly warm, pushing thoughts with the Force _(the first time, he had pulled away and apologised for the emotions that had felt as though they were crushing Hux from the inside)_ that scream of possessiveness and more than a touch of want. Hux brushes his fingers through the hair at the back of Ren's neck, tugging ever so slightly just to hear Ren groan for him. It is a good feeling. Nothing about the plan dictates that this can't feel good as well as achieving something for him.

“Everything. Give me everything.”

  
  


******

“May we speak?”

Phasma asks on his third walk around the base of the morning, slipping into step with him seamlessly. Hux barely turns his head in her direction when he nods, knows all too well what she is staring at on his neck. Ren seems to take his complaints about the bruises left on his skin as a personal mission, making sure they can be seen by everyone.

“We can.”

“I have a concern, sir,”

Hux lets out a long breath that freezes almost the second it leaves his mouth. Seven months into construction, with most of the Order trapped across the galaxy after six of their hyper-drives broke within four cycles of each other, the majority of conversations Hux has had lately are to do with concerns.

“You may want to make your intentions with Ren a little more subtle. People are beginning to talk. I believe there is a.. betting pool, sir.”

  
  


“A betting pool.”

He says flatly.

“Some of the troopers have placed bets of up to a hundred credits.”

“ _We don't even pay them._ ”

Phasma nods, obviously sensing the frustration in Hux's tone. The incredible and violent, completely obedient soldiers his father had imagined were becoming more and more difficult to create, with the advancement in Resistance propaganda and the watchful eye of the Republic. He imagines the officers aboard the other ships have something to do with their disobedience, makes a mental note to mention it to Snoke during their next call. Hux rounds the next bend of the hallway, making sure that no crew are present to hear the next part of their conversation. He pauses, waits for Phasma to settle in her armour before raising green eyes to the blank face of her chrome helmet.

  
  


“The plan is advancing well. He is beginning to trust me. If I maintain this façade for as long as it takes, I believe he would help me to overthrow Snoke.”

Phasma reaches up and de-pressurizes her helmet, lifting it easily away. Her face is practically granite in its expression, blue eyes narrowed as she stares at him. Blonde hair curls in waves around her ears, pale skin marred by only the smallest of scars (rarely does anyone get close enough to the Captain to do any damage, and never does it last).

Hux has only ever seen her without the helmet during times of great importance, where she feels the need to show her eyes in order to make him understand. Few have seen her face, those who have tried to get any further into the impenetrable armour have not lasted for long in the First Order (Hux has seen to that himself).

“He doesn't think of this as a game. He thinks this is real.”

She says, in a voice completely free from a modulator, blunt and strong. Hux stares at her, the lines on her brow and the spark of danger in those otherwise mellow eyes, before conceding defeat. He may have overdone certain parts of their arrangement so far- allowing Ren the code to his office for one, or skipping three dinner parties to watch the other train in the woods- and led Ren to believe it was more than a ploy.

“And if he finds out it's not?”

“He will lead the First Order into ruin, destroy any and all plans for domination, of that I have no doubt. Ren will punish us both, you for seducing him and me for being involved. We will wish for death by the time he is done.”

Hux thinks of the man who had left the office three nights ago, slipping the helmet back over ears flushed red with satisfaction, how he had felt Ren rummaging through his mind only three hours ago, during his training, clutching on tightly like he needed a hand hold to reality. He feels more than just a mutual satisfaction.

There is no doubt Hux will be punished if Ren ever finds out.

  
  


******

Ren is lurking outside the door of the holo-chamber by the time Hux makes it to the door, (fifteen minutes late, completely unavoidable with the small uprising taking place on Hoth) twisting his hands in those gloves of his until they creak. Hux winces at the sound, reaches out to grab one of Ren's hands before he does serious damage to his fingers. Ren jerks at the feeling, head lifting, seemingly having not noticed he was here.

“You're waiting?”

Hux doesn't mention the way Ren's fingers curl around his own tightly, cutting the circulation off painfully. The other man is trembling with nerves beneath his robes, like a sapling in a strong wind. Never before has he seen Ren in such a state before a meeting with their Leader.

“I get my orders today.”

Ren murmurs through the helmet, voice pitched low as he manoeuvres Hux to stand by his side, head bent to whisper into his ear. His free hand brushes through the red hair at the back of his neck, surprisingly gentle. Hux sucks in a breath. Getting orders from Snoke could mean anything from being shipped to the other side of the galaxy for an extended time or conquering a planet in one night.

“He won't do anything to punish you, nothing of great value-” A bare faced lie that can obviously be read in his face if the small huff of breath from Ren is an answer.

“Has been damaged, you've been acting almost like someone in control of their emotions lately. If anything, you're more than likely about to be praised.”

  
  


_You know what to say sometimes, Hux._

“I know I do.”

_When did you get so wise?_

“Not everyone needs the Force, Lord Ren, to know things about people.”

The door in front of them grates open, the metal grinding along the slash marks in the floor. Hux had given up repairing this section of the ship shortly after Ren had joined them; every time he met with Snoke, Ren destroyed some part of the holo-chamber. He can feel a hand pressed against the small of his back, solid and warm, as they walk through the doors. Hux almost smiles at him in response. The confidence in Ren's touch disappears as soon as they begin the short walk to Snoke's throne, as does his hand.

_Stay calm._

Hux sends before he can even speak, slanting his eyes over to where the mask will be pointing. They climb the steps to stand beneath their Leader, heads tipped back to gaze into the hungry, haunted gaze of Snoke. Hux tightens his hands behind his back, fingers digging into his palms painfully. Snoke threads pale, skeletal fingers together, resting his chin lightly against them. His eyes wander over them with a disinterested fascination, digging into Hux's mind without asking permission.

“Let me tell you, Kylo Ren, of what your new orders will be.”

Ren shakes like a leaf beside him. Hux has to resist the urge to reach out and touch.

Snoke's eyes gleam in his scarred, monstrous face.

  
  


******

Kylo Ren returns amidst a flurry of panic after three months away, searching for the map leading to Luke Skywalker. His orders had not been a punishment as he suspected initially though it had been a drain of resources since the very first day. Hux barely pays the screen showing Ren's shuttle landing a glance, too focused on the battle taking place over Ryloth. The Resistance had showed up seemingly out of nowhere, firing before they had barely made it out of light speed. The few prepared pilots on planet scrambled but were so far just being used for target practise. Moving the _Finalizer_ away would no doubt be at the cost of his pilots, a loss he would rather avoid under any circumstances. Hux hates the Resistance even more at times like this, their efficiency has improved since Leia Organa began working less with the Senate and more on base with her band of rebels.

  
  


“Would you like me to go out there?”

Ren asks, striding down the bridge to stand at Hux's elbow. His cape is slightly singed and shorter than usual, as if he caught it in a door at some point; otherwise he seems well enough. Hux raises an eyebrow in Mitaka's direction- the little man is standing too close, he scrambles away to shout orders at the few pilots left over the comms.

“And do what? Wave your lightsaber around? We'll leave this to the pilots.”

Hux snarks, unable to resist saying something after so long an absence. The _Finalizer_ had been quieter without him, the crew has been more at ease than Hux has ever seen and a console hasn't been destroyed in the whole time he has been gone. Hux hasn't been enjoying his warmer quarters on the ship as he normally does. It should have been a welcome break; only a week had passed before the normalcy had begun to dig at Hux's temples in a grating headache.

  
  


_You look well._

_This is the face of a man who hasn't had to deal with you for three months._

The emotions pushed into his mind feel almost offended, as if he had taken that slight personally. Ren is a surprisingly sensitive creature at times, Hux had imagined calling oneself a monster on a regular basis would take away those vulnerabilities.

“Lieutenant, tell the pilots here on base to scramble and offer support.”

He calls, choosing to ignore the other man's feelings for the time being, to the wide-eyed officer standing at the bottom of the bridge, watching as he strides off to do so. Mitaka is warily peering over his console at Ren, presumably wondering about its safety.

_I could have this over in less than an hour._

“I don't need you to have this over in less than an hour.”

Hux hisses in between scrolling pages on his (new) data-pad, tracking the positions of their back up fleet, who by the time they get here will be dealing with little more than clean-up, and wondering where he last left his cup of caf.

_What about greeting me properly?_

“We don't have time right now, Ren.”

He can feel Ren laughing internally even with a foot of space between them. Hux turns away from him, shouting orders to the furthest side of the bridge- really the layout may need to be revised, he thinks; he can't keep counting on Mitaka to run back and forth- to begin sending the pilots out with as little fuss as possible. A hand presses against his back gently, warm through the leather glove and Hux's large coat, enough to divert his attention back to Ren. It is impossible to read through the mask, but he thinks the other man is trying to show some degree of kindness towards him.

  
  


_Let me go out there. I'll deal with it._

“Only intervene if it is completely necessary, don't lose any lives if you can help it.”

Kylo Ren nods, taking the orders as if he will actually listen to a word of them. Hux sucks in a sharp breath, lets it out slowly. The hand on his back lingers for a moment longer, digging in forcefully before pulling away.

_When you're done, I'll be in my chambers. I might even greet you properly._

To the casual observer it would look as if Ren had simply stumbled on his way through the doors, but Hux sees the movement as more of a startled trip. Ren turns to look at him, forcing incredulity into Hux's mind like a flood. Pushing down a smirk is more difficult than it should be considering their current issue so Hux turns away from where Ren is no doubt staring at him to shout a few more orders at the officers still listening to him.

_Your cup of caf is on the floor, Mitaka knocked it over._

The last thought from Ren is unbearably smug from the docking bay. Hux smiles down at his data pad for just a second, forcing down the warm pride growing in his chest with a sharp thought, and goes back to work.

  
  


An hour later, Ren tosses his mask onto the carpeted floor of Hux's chambers almost the second the doors slide open, kicking off his boots as he comes into the bedroom. Hux smiles at him from the bed, already naked and reading reports on his data-pad. The sight stops Ren in his tracks, eyes growing wide and full of burning hunger. Neither of them mention the way that Millicent darts out of the room to sniff around the empty plate in the main room.

“Successful?”

“I always am.”

Ren starts to tug off his robes one by one, tugging at his belt with something like desperate frustration, face screwing up into a scowl. Hux just watches, enjoying the way his fingers scrabble at the buckle, leaning his head back against the pillows. Ren stops to stare some more before resuming his efforts to get his pants off. A moment more of struggling and they are off, opened with an invisible hand Hux has begun to know well.

  
  


“Just come here.”

Hux reaches out with fingers outstretched wide, ready to wrap around Ren's waist. The other man climbs onto the bed, crawling gracelessly up to press a bruising kiss to Hux's lips, one that leaves him breathless and aching for something more. His data-pad is tugged from his hands and thrown carelessly over one freckled shoulder as Ren lowers his gaze to his chest, fingers grazing over Hux's hip bones with a feather light touch, enough to make him squirm. He gets his own back by pushing forward in Ren's arms to leave dark marks in the crook of his neck with biting teeth. Ren moans loudly, dropping his head against Hux's chest, panting breaths into his skin.

_Did you miss me, Hux?_

_Maybe I did, Ren._

Kylo Ren grins sharply as he shifts to rest on his elbows above him, hips planted firmly against Hux's own. It is agonising not to move, Hux doesn't trust himself to last if he does. Ren seems content enough to play this game for now, adrenaline still high after the fight over Ryloth and for once Hux is willing to join in.

  
  


One kiss after another leaves the two of them burning from the inside out, unable to keep their noises as quiet as they normally would (Hux is fortunate that his quarters do not share a wall like Ren's do) and pushing their thoughts together in a messy tangle of desperation and _need_.

_So so beautiful, Hux.. you're mine and I want it all. All of you._

Ren's thoughts are overwhelming and almost enough to make Hux come without even needing to be touched. His hips jerk when Ren pushes down, head tilting back against the pillows. His breath rushes out his lungs seemingly before he can even take it in, panting against Ren's lips when he rises up to kiss him. Hux can feel sweat in the small of his back, watches the drops fall from Ren's hairline onto his face with an avid fascination.

_Finish it. Please._

He begs, having lost the ability to talk around the third time Ren had used the Force to make him come all over the brand new sheets and the pale hand around his dick. Ren nods silently, breath coming hard, face flushed with a bright colour that makes his eyes sparkle brightly. He is beautiful like this, wild and untamed. Not a monster. Something better, darker but strangely warm. A fire on a cold evening.

**

“You don't have to leave,”

The words stop Ren as he picks up his boots, the laces untying themselves as they hang loosely in his grip. He blinks once. Twice.

“If you wish to go I won't stop you. The offer is here for you to stay.”

Hux adds, watching the uncertainty (and much more well hidden, the hope) spread over Ren's features. He looks exhausted, dark rings beneath his eyes and shoulders hunched, but pleased with himself. Hux tugs the covers up to his waist, stretching out onto his back to stare at the ceiling when it becomes apparent no answer is forthcoming.

  
  


A moment later the bed dips underneath Ren's weight, his boots dropping to the floor. He slides beneath the sheets cautiously, as if expecting to be kicked to the floor for getting too close. Once upon a time, that would have been true; but now, Hux just wants to sleep.

It has been weeks since he has been so pleasantly exhausted, he is not used to seeing his bed before the early morning. Ren curls on his side, like a child; Hux watches out the corner of his eye as the other man stares at him with huge dark eyes. Dark hair falls into a pale face, a young face, that is as serene as it probably ever has been.

“Why are you letting me stay?”

“I want to.”

Hux says simply, rolling over onto his side, flicking his fringe out of his eyes as he does so. They are practically nose to nose, Ren's breath is warm against his face. A callused hand wraps around his own beneath the sheets, warm and rough against his soft skin. Ren closes his eyes, sighs quietly. Settles into Hux's bed as if he has always belonged here.

_Oh no._

He thinks as his gaze traces over Ren's face and the curve of his hand around his own.

Hux does not sleep that night.

  
  


******

Hux does not call it the manipulation as the original plan dictated.

There is nothing manipulative about the way Ren feels about him, it is written across his face every time he tugs Hux's coat from his shoulders in the barely lit bedroom of his quarters with a forcefulness that takes the breath from his lungs. He can feel it in the brush of fingers against his back as they both stand on the bridge, moments away from calling for the first test of the weapon. Waking up in the morning, still drenched in sweat from the night before, to see him sleeping less than a foot away, curled around his cat, dark hair over his face.

  
  


It is sickening behaviour for an officer of the First Order.

Even worse, monsters do not feel this.

And Hux has always prided himself upon being a monster.

**

The attention Ren pays him is almost unbearable.

Hux lasts only three months before he begins to feel _something_ other than the contempt and mistrust he has felt from the very beginning of their working together. It might be waking up to wrinkled sheets, a steaming cup of caf on his bedside table and a pair of dark eyes glinting from the pillow beside him. Ren always stays until dawn, leaves only when Hux leaves to change for the day, always pressing a hand between his shoulders in goodbye. The complete and devoted attention Ren pays to every single one of his freckles at night, no matter how small the marks are or how frustrated Hux may get. He has not been in the company of another in a very long time, not since the Academy, but never has he felt like this before.

  
  


If this is what falling in love is like, Hux does not want it.

******

“What's your name?”

Ren asks one morning from the bed as Hux dries his hair in the fresher, rubbing it furiously with a towel in an attempt to get it to dry faster. This is the third day this week Ren has asked this question, Hux has been ignoring trying to answer for as long as possible.

“I don't know yours, or is it really Kylo Ren?”

He says as he comes back into the bedroom. The smile on Ren's face is disarmingly charming. A week ago, furiously in denial and on the verge of collapsing with exhaustion as the final parts of the weapon were put into place, Hux would have started an argument to avoid seeing it. Now he just smiles in response, small and genuine.

“It isn't. I'll tell you one day.”

“Maybe I should wait to tell you mine.”

Ren's eyebrows pinch into a frown, his lips tightening. It is easier to read his moods without the mask in the way; Hux is almost amused at how much of an open book Kylo Ren can be when one is trusted by him. Millicent jumps onto the bed, successfully diverting Ren's attention away from Hux, his eyes tracking her movements intensely as she crosses the sheets to curl up by his side. Millicent seems equally as fascinated by Ren as he is by her, the two of them have spent hours staring at one another from across rooms.

  
  


“It's Darian.”

Hux says before he even realizes the words have left his mouth. He instantly regrets it, turns to walk back into the fresher and possibly drown himself in the shower for making such a mistake. Not carrying your father's name might not mean much to someone like Kylo Ren, but in the remains of the Empire there was no blacker a mark against one's record. A hand on his shoulder stops him, Ren seemingly having appeared in front of him silently, forces him to look into the dark eyes intent on his face.

“Darian Stanford Hux.”

The smile that grows on Ren's face as he speaks is large and full of _something_ Hux couldn't identify unless he had the Force. He no longer considers the feeling of Ren in his mind as an invasion, it has become more of a comfort to reach for towards the end of a difficult day.

“Yes.”

Ren reaches out with only long, delicate finger to push Hux's hair away from his forehead, eyes warmer in his face than Hux has ever seen. If this is what love is, he still does not want it, but he is learning to enjoy it. The soft kiss Ren places against his lips is gentle, speaking of something neither of them mention in the morning, and enough to make Hux smile.

“It suits you.”

He says, tugging Hux back over to the bed, apparently not caring that Hux has a meeting in three and a half hours on their beautiful weapon (because really, they are co-commanders in more than just the First Order): their _Starkiller_.

  
  


******

  
  


“You have done well, General.”

Snoke says from his throne the morning after the thirteenth weapon test. Hux is so flushed with the excitement of seeing his dream come to fruition that the praise barely registers. He just bows his head in acceptance, mind focused on how beautiful the beam had looked as it shot across the sky to a little, uninhabited planet that had torn itself apart within moments.

“Thank you, Supreme Leader. Only your guidance has allowed the Order to achieve such lengths.”

Hux feels sick just saying the words as Snoke rummages through his mind like a well ordered filing cabinet, apparently seeking something and not afraid to show it. Having Kylo Ren in his head is not nearly as painful as this- having Kylo within his head has become a welcome presence, always lingering just a little away until called forward. Snoke digs ancient skeletal fingers into the very surface of his mind, tightening his grip until Hux gasps out loud in pain. His attempts to disguise it as a cough just seem to amuse Snoke, if the smile that crosses his face tells Hux anything.

  
  


“And Kylo Ren? Has he been valuable to you?”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

Hux has not seen Kylo in more than a month: their schedules have been hectic since the weapon first went online, barely spending more than an hour together before Kylo jets off to the other side of the galaxy searching for Luke Skywalker's map.

“He will remain your co-commander for the future, the results produced by this little experiment have shown me that you both work well together. Report to me should anything change, General.”

Hux nods as the hologram of Snoke disappears from the throne, leaving the holo-chamber as damp and desolate as it has ever been. He has never thought of _Starkiller_ as a experiment, his life's work reduced to just a simple word with a basic meaning, nor his and Kylo's partnership as anything but genuine (the plan, sadly, is no longer relevant, Hux stopped following the rules months ago).

  
  


Striding through the base is the only thing that will make him feel better in this situation, Hux decides as he leaves the holo-chamber, hands buried in his pockets in preparation for the cold. He has forgotten what sunlight feels like after so long on the _Finalizer_ and now on base, is only reminded by the thoughts Kylo will push into his head during odd hours of the day (this has became a habit between the two of them, no matter how far the other may be, to send thoughts of their day to one another at night).

“ _General Hux.”_

His comm buzzes loudly on his belt. Hux reaches for it with a roll of his eyes, prepared for whatever disaster they are experiencing today. He accepts the transmission as he paces the six floors to the docking bay, wanting to count his TIE fighters until the ache in his head goes away.

“Yes?”

“ _Lord Kylo Ren is calling. Do you wish to accept the transmission?”_

“I do. Put it on my private line and stop anyone from contacting me until I say so, clear?”

A single buzz as the line is put through. Hux knows his order will not be disobeyed.

  
  


“Ren?”

“ _I miss you.”_

Hux's throat locks up, he tries to swallow down the lump blocking him from speaking. He pauses in the hallway, leans against the wall and runs a hand through his hair. Kylo's voice sounds exhausted beyond belief, low and rough as if he has been walking for hours without water.

“Where are you?”

“ _Too far away. Lost a little, I suppose. It's hard to know.”_

“I spoke with Snoke, he is pleased with us.”

A sharp laugh buzzes down the line, tired and just a little on the wrong side of bitter. Hux can hear the sound of heavy rain in the background, roaring wind and what could be the crash of the sea. It is hard to tell from light years away on his base.

“ _I miss you.”_

Kylo repeats, and he sounds further away now, as if he is lost in a dream. Hux wipes his nose with the back of a gloved hand, internally appalled at the breach in hygiene but unable to think about it with the sound of Kylo's breathing on the other end of the line.

“I don't think of you as Ren in my head. You're simply Kylo now.”

Another laugh, this one more focused and clear. Hux lets himself smile- just a little, not enough for anyone to notice should they spot him lurking- down at his boots.

“ _You'll always be General to me, Hux. Don't worry.”_

  
  


“When will you be home?”

“ _Soon, I hope. I'm tired of the rain.”_

Hux can hear _something_ in Kylo's voice he has started to identify in his own, the feeling he has since labelled as love. The file containing the plan has been closed for a long time now, metaphorically growing dust in his hard drive.

“I'm tired of the snow here on _Starkiller_.”

So trivial, he thinks, to speak of the weather with a man who has no doubt just finished slaughtering villages to find the map leading to Luke Skywalker. Is probably cleaning the blood from those robes as they speak.

“ _I have to go. I'll be home soon, Hux.”_

“I miss you too.”

He says before the transmission ends. Lingers for much longer than he intends in the corridor, staring at his boots and wondering just how Kylo Ren had come to mean _home_ in a way that should have meant _Starkiller_. Closes eyes that sting without the cold of outside, sucks in a sharp breath. He has never missed anyone before, not even his mother or father as a child on extended trips to other planets.

It is a strange feeling.

  
  


******

“I want you to tell me a secret.”

Hux murmurs, sheets pooled around his waist, making the purple bruises trailing down from his chest to his stomach all the more obvious. His voice is remarkably steady, if a little hoarse. Kylo hums in acknowledgement, curled on his side with his eyes closed contently. Hux reaches out- hand trembling ever so slightly- to push the thick, sweat soaked hair from Kylo's face.

“Tell me a secret.”

He repeats, turning onto his side in time to see a smile touch Kylo's lips. He is thinking hard, the signs obvious in the furrow of his brow and the wandering fingers pressing hard into Hux's hipbone.

“If I do will you tell me something?”

Kylo mumbles softly, almost sweetly (and that in itself is strange, nothing about Kylo Ren could be considered sweet, he is violent, almost a monster, even in bed). His eyes open- so, so dark like this; Hux could drown in them without regret- to peer in Hux's direction, squinting slightly in the light.

  
  


“I'll even go first.”

Hux says, digging his own fingers into Kylo's ribs in revenge for the bruises no doubt left there, and tugging him close enough to hold onto. He is not one to hug by nature but with Kylo, is learning to enjoy it. Kylo nods against his shoulder, poised to listen, hands trailing his back and tracing the freckles there.

_'Tell me.'_

“I killed my first man when I was eleven.”

His voice doesn't shake though he has never spoken of this to anyone before. Kylo pulls back to stare, clearly startled, worry creasing his features. Hux strokes his hair, whispers _'let me explain'_ through the link in their mind, trying to soothe him back into the warmth of before. Gradually, it works, Kylo relaxes enough for Hux to continue speaking.

  
  


“My father was an important man before the fall of the Empire and a broken man after it. He owed many people money on numerous planets, all throughout the galaxy, both Empire and Republic. The New Republic required that his debts be paid within thirty days or they would seize parts of his property. He had few things available to him large enough to fill the debt, one of them being his school. That was sold to Snoke and the other benefactors. It wasn't enough, he began to withdraw my mother's dowry, my fund for private schooling, his private investments in all forms of illegal trade. It didn't take long for my mother to leave him.

One night, four months after she left, a man broke into the house in the dead of night. My father was still spending money like an old fool, only now he had moved on from his own money to the First Order funds being handed to him monthly to train the troopers; they were soon frolicked away on every kind of gambling you could imagine. Most disapproved, began to cut ties with my father and fled to a life in the New Republic, one of them was so tired of dealing with it that he hired a mercenary to ensure my father could never gamble again. I woke to the sound of a hook landing on the sill of my bedroom window, the fiend had faced resistance in the kitchens and sought for another way into the house. The youngest member of the household would put up little fight against a grown man. I was a year away from starting at the Academy, but had been given a weapon by my mother just before she left. It was a knife, a tiny, lethally sharp thing, just in case I was ever attacked over my father's mistakes. To carry it was the only instruction she ever gave me: do not go anywhere without it.”

  
  


“Were you trained?”

Kylo asks, fingers now tangled in Hux's bright red hair, seemingly trying to comb the gel from between the strands one at a time. It is a task more suited to a comb, but Hux will not try to stop him (it feels good, almost gentle, and that again is confusing). He shifts, and tries to focus again on the raining night from his childhood.

“Enough to subdue until help arrived. I kept it by my bed, sometimes clutching it until my hands ached when my father entertained women who were not my mother. And on this night, when the mercenary slipped in the window soaked in rain, confident he could take down a pathetic old man and his young son, I waited. Pretended to sleep with knife in hand as he slipped through the room with a weapon of his own. I was excited to prove myself, to see if I could be as vicious as I saw the people around me being. To make my father proud. When he lifted the blaster and tugged back the sheets, fully prepared to blow my head off without me ever knowing it, I sat up and stabbed him in the lungs. The knife may have been small but it was sharp. He choked to death on his own blood before help even arrived.”

  
  


Hux finishes, not completely sure what he has gained by revealing this or what Kylo's reaction will be. He is surprised to find himself pulled forward into a long, tight kiss. The feelings Kylo pushes towards him are fierce, beautiful pride _(you killed him, you killed him)_ and a overwhelming possessiveness _(no-one will ever touch you again)_. So proud of what the young Hux had done to ensure his own survival, sending curses to the man who had tried to take away his life.

_'Let me tell you my secret.'_

Kylo pulls back, eyes glittering, smiling widely. It fades in an instant, his shoulders tighten and hunch, uncertainty wandering his young features. Hux knows how it feels, he had never spoken of that night to a soul until now, feels almost freer because of it. He wraps his hand around Kylo's own, murmuring encouragement.

  
  


“This isn't something anyone knows except for Snoke,” he begins. The _'so it must stay that way'_ is silent but heavily implied. Kylo's eyes are deadly serious as he stares, face pale beneath the dim lights. Hux nods in agreement, having no intention of ever revealing what is said in this bed. Kylo lets out a slow, shaky breath.

“I was born nine months after the Battle of Endor and the fall of the Empire, on Corsucant. You know more about peace time than I do but I know many children were born during that time; most of the population in the galaxy are the same age as me.”

“Relief, I imagine.”

Kylo's eyes narrow sharply, his nails dig into Hux's hip painfully for a moment before relaxing. Hux wisely decides to stay quiet, there is nervous temper brewing in Kylo's face and he does not want to be the one to trigger it.

“I wasn't just a baby born in the aftermath of war. It was more than that. My birth is the insignificant part to this story, it's who my parents are that matter. You were born into the First Order, I was part of the Republic until I was fifteen years old. I know that even on the other side, you must have seen the wedding of the century, at least on holo-broadcasts?”

Hux remembers it well, even having only been four at the time. His mother had watched it with an expression of envy on her face, his father raving and furious as he spoke on the comm to his associates, no doubt preparing to spend more money on lunatic schemes. He can remember sitting on the floor of their summer home, moving toy soldiers into strategic positions, head lifted to watch the goings on of the Republic with interest.

  
  


“I did.”

“Two months after I was born, in the spring, Leia Organa and Han Solo married. It was a big affair, the galaxy hadn't seen such a thing in over thirty years, at least not a wedding between a Princess and a smuggler. I was there, just a baby, because they're...”

“Your parents.”

Hux breathes. Kylo doesn't seem to mind the interruption, may even appreciate not having to say the words out loud. He turns his gaze to stare at Kylo, suddenly able to see the resemblance. The sharp, piercing dark eyes and pale skin of Leia Organa. The height and build of Han Solo. He has seen enough Republic broadcasts over the years to be familiar with their faces. Kylo sits up, seemingly intending to leave now the truth is out, running away like the overgrown man child he is. Hux has no intention of letting him make it to the door, grabbing onto his arm before he can make to throw off the covers. Kylo must sense he won't get far, lays back down like _he's_ now expecting to be stabbed in the lung (Hux stopped carrying that knife long ago, around the time he got his blaster).

  
  


“I have one question I'd like you to answer,”

Kylo nods cautiously, rolls onto his side with the expression of a haunted man about to be placed on the execution block. Hux thinks of the wedding of Han Solo and Leia Organa, as his childhood memory recalls it, how good and pure they had seemed in that moment to the smaller Hux. He stares at their son in front of him, the man he had become.

“What is your real name, not the one Snoke gave to you when he made you an apprentice?”

“Ben. Ben Organa-Solo.”

  
  


******

As all things go, the good must come to an end.

  
  


“What is this?”

Kylo snaps, marching into his office just as the last cycle of the day turns into nightfall. The slam of a data-pad upon his desk is enough to scatter the blue prints and an entire pot of caf to the floor. Hux looks up silently.

“I don't know to what you're referring.”

He says slowly. Kylo pushes the data-pad closer with a wave of his fingers, apparently incapable of standing any closer than he is now. Without being touched, his office door slams and locks by itself. Hux sits up in his chair, lets out a slow breath, and pulls the data-pad towards himself with a growing feeling of heaviness in his gut.

  
  


_Millicent V- Future Plans._

The file title reads.

Hux's stomach drops a little further, his heart seemingly rising into his throat without his realization. He lets his gaze lift to where Kylo stands at the other end of the desk. The other man has his arms crossed protectively against his chest, eyes glittering in the dim light of the room.

“You wanted to use my abilities for your own selfish means.”

Kylo breathes softly, having lost his fury within the last few moments. Hux can barely look at him, grips onto the bottom of his desk for support, hands trembling.

“That was the idea at the time, yes.”

Hux murmurs. A decorative plate showing the last moments of the Empire in the corner of the room smashes at his words. Three of the four bulbs in the lights above his desk pop, littering glass across the floor. Kylo Ren seemingly does not notice, nor care.

  
  


Hux forces himself to look up from the glass covering the screen of the data pad, from the red scratch on his own pale hand from the light bulbs to stare at the man across from him. Kylo Ren radiates compressed fury, fists clenched tightly at his sides until his gloves creak with the pressure. His face is twisted into a scowl of outright desperation and betrayal. Hux feels as if he should stand, explain himself; when he tries to move, a great pressure forces him back into the chair. Ren's eyes are like staring into empty space minus the stars, deep and suffocating enough that Hux imagines he can see death itself at the other end.

“You wanted to use me... like they all _do!_ ”

His control snaps. Hux is lifted from his chair with a single swipe of a hand, tugged along by his throat to float a foot above the ground. Ren is breathing heavily, his mind screaming through the link that they share _(I trusted you, you're just like everyone else, all you are good for is too be used, Ben. Learn your lesson. Don't trust.)_

“Not now.”

Hux chokes out around the grip on his throat, hands scrabbling as if that will give him opportunity to breathe. Ren doesn't care, he can see the change in his eyes as the walls build between the two of them. He is not surprised to see the red, unstable lightsaber appear in his right hand, trembling with the anger in the room.

  
  


“It doesn't matter. None of it was real. I should kill you for this.”

Ren doesn't shout. He doesn't even smash another plate or throw Hux around any further. If anything, he is remarkably calm, almost hauntingly so. His pale face is shrouded with shadow as the alarms begin to blare, as his tantrum has attracted the attention of the sensors. It is only a matter of minutes before the technicians arrive to access the damage.

  
  


Within the next moment, two things happen.

Hux is dropped to the floor unceremoniously, like a bag of weights, landing on his knees hard enough to draw blood. The link between his and Ren's mind is completely silent, as if solid iron walls have been built between the two of them. Kylo Ren stares down at him, almost an unforgiving god like this. Hux has never been afraid of him, but now, he can see why others are. The second, just as Hux lowers his head to cough into his arm, is the lightsaber burying itself in the wall, successfully bringing down the sprinklers and a brand new set of alarms. The next time he lifts his gaze- the sound of trooper boots can be heard from the other end of the hallway, he has only a minute to stand himself up- Ren is gone.

  
  


_(You. Will. Not. Fall. Down.)_

Hux thinks as he rises.

And he doesn't.

  
  


******

  
  


The map to Luke Skywalker is located during the thirteenth cycle of the day, successfully bringing to an end their two year frantic search. Hux breathes a sigh of relief into his fourth cup of caf of the day, nodding to Mitaka to deliver the news via the comms to the stormtroopers lingering around on the lower floors of the base.

“Someone make Lord Ren aware he will be travelling to Jakku within the hour.”

He calls to the officers gathered around their respective control panels. Mitaka is trying to make himself as small as possible as he returns to his console, as if desperate not to have to speak to Kylo Ren for longer than he needs too. Hux is tempted to give the order to him, just to see him squirm but decides against it when Phasma steps up to his elbow.

  
  


“You'll be going with him, I trust?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Give him the order then. I don't want my officers anywhere near his temper when he fails to procure the map once again. We don't have the space in the budget for health care.”

Hux reaches for his data-pad as he speaks, pointing to the section in the expense reports dedicated to the crew's welfare packages. He's already spending an exuberant amount per month to have new consoles shipped to whichever part of the galaxy the _Finalizer_ is stationed in; damage to his officers is just something the First Order cannot afford.

“Very well. I will be taking my most recently commissioned squadron, to test their readiness for battle.”

“Keep me informed, Captain. I have all the faith in your abilities.”

She gives a nod as she turns to leave, stalking out of the bridge with just a slight clank to her armour. The last two years have been difficult on them all, but no one as much as Phasma. Losing the soldiers she had trained from birth to every manner of disaster had been enough to push her training schedules even further.

  
  


No-one has spoken of the incident in his office for a year and a half, at least as far as Hux is aware. Only Phasma had known the real reason for Kylo Ren's explosion, and she has kept mostly away from the other man except for when protocol requires them all to be in a room with one another. Hux has only seen Ren eight times since the incident; he is pleased it has only been that often.

  
  


“I want eyes on Jakku. As many as we can get.”

Hux paces to the other end of the bridge, nails digging into his palms- he has stopped wearing the gloves indoors, hated the feeling of leather against his skin- tightly. The officers there drop everything to peer up at him, their eyes weigh heavily on his back.

“Yes sir.”

Someone answers. Furious typing comes from behind him as all of the available feeds they have show up on the main screen, accompanied by flight time estimation and the strategy plan for attack. Hux thinks, very briefly, of how he had worked tirelessly for over two weeks to create this form of attack formation, the gentle way Ren had led him away from his desk at night. Having spent so long seeing the face behind the helmet, it had been difficult for Hux to acclimatise himself to the occasional glint of cold, dark eyes.

  
  


“Report in, Phasma.”

“ _We are on the verge of landing, sir.”_

“And the map?”

Hux stretches out his hands when he reaches his own console again, striding back up the bridge, revelling in the whirr of machinery beneath his finger tips.

“ _It is here.”_

“Bring it back to us, Captain. Hux out.”

  
  


******

Hux can hear the Resistance pilot screaming from inside the interrogation chamber.

It won't last much longer, he thinks, as he stands outside the door. No-one can withstand Kylo Ren in their heads without losing some part of their sanity _(as he would well know)_. The doors slide open, the pilot is still making those terrible noises, as Ren leaves the room. He pauses, ever so slightly, when he sees Hux waiting for him, shoulders stiff with strain. They have made a point not to be alone together since the incident.

  
  


“It's in a droid. A BB unit.”

The voice modulator tells Hux nothing about Ren's mood. It has been a long time since he needed to care about the other man's work attitude- he has spent most of the past year and a half gallivanting around with his knights, searching for the map- and worry for the safety of his consoles. Hux glares at him, hoping that just a little of his own foul mood is breaking through the iron walls built around whatever they used to share.

“Well then, if it's on Jakku we'll soon have it.”

Hux cannot help his mouth lifting into a small smile. Once upon a time, before everything had fallen apart with the incident, Ren had been able to inspire more in his icy heart than just this expression. Even this feels like too much, almost a peace offering. And yet, Hux cannot stop his hopes from lifting: that today will be the day this is finally resolved.

“I'll leave that to you.”

Ren walks away as he speaks, striding off with his half torn cape and black bucket of a helmet. Hux's hopes are crushed as soon as they rose, stamped beneath one of Ren's black, heavy boots. He sucks in a breath, blinks up at the lighting fixtures- one flashes on and off, irritating his growing headache- before walking in the opposite direction to where Ren had gone.

  
  


Hopefully, he will not have to see him again.

  
  


******

  
  


“General Hux. The prisoner, well... he's escaping.”

“Escaping.”

“Yes, in a TIE fighter. With one of our troopers.”

If it wasn't a severe breach of etiquette protocol, and a crack in his mask he is unwilling to give to someone like Mitaka, Hux would bang his head against the desk. Instead, he settles for running a despairing hand over his face (careful not to dislodge his newly gelled hair) before tugging his data pad over. Mitaka lurks, as he always does, a little warily at the other side of his desk. Hux elects to ignore him for the moment.

“Has Phasma been informed?”

Hux watches the footage once: the easy confidence in the pilot's walk, not exactly the death stroll of a tortured man, as he and the trooper march up to the TIE fighter without being questioned. He pulls a sketch pad, a luxury he rarely allows himself with the First Order's rules on blatant creativity, over to his side, hurriedly sketching out a possible new means of controlling docked ships.

“She is waiting on the bridge for you, sir.”

“And Kylo Ren?”

Hux's mouth tastes like the ashes from his last cigarette when he says the name. His headache gives an almighty thump against his right temple, enough to make him drop the pencil in his hand. Mitaka positively shakes like a leaf in front of him at the mention of Ren's name, hands twisting his little hat into a knot. Hux feels almost sorry for him.

“Not yet, sir. We are having trouble tracking him down.”

“Very well, if he wants to meet us on the bridge, he can.”

Hux picks up his data-pad and walks into the hallway, trusting that Mitaka will follow him. He watches the footage of the Resistance pilot's escape once more as he does, eyes locked on the white uniform of the trooper who had so blatantly disobeyed the First Order: the first of his kind to ever do so.

  
  


“General Hux.”

Ren's voice sounds unsteady as he wanders into the bridge no more than five minutes later, just as Hux is working himself up into a pacing ritual that suits all of his anxiety induced needs. He makes his way from behind the consoles of three of his officers, boots creaking with the movement, to stand almost a foot away from Ren.

“Was it the Resistance pilot?”

“Yes. And he had help.”

Hux cannot stop himself from pushing the further details towards Ren's heavily locked vault of a mind, more out of habit than anything else. Ren doesn't say anything in response, he is a barely contained example of strain and outright fury, hands knotted tightly together into fists. This is the closest they have been to one another in two years, but Hux does not relax even with the audience, his own hands are locked into fists behind his back, nails digging into his palms.

  
  


_This is exactly what my father would have killed to see._

Hux thinks as he watches the footage of their guns trying to take on the TIE fighter less than thirteen floors away. The Resistance pilot- Poe Dameron- is brilliant behind the controls, despite his unfortunate political leanings, somehow more capable after hours of intense torture than most of his pilots in the practise runs without injuries.

Ren jerks beside him, head turning in his direction with a tilt of interest. Nothing noticeable is wrong to the outside world around them, the officers continue speaking as if he is fully listening to their running commentary of the trooper and the pilot's escape.

He feels a light graze of pressure against his mind, instantly recognisable and so painfully real his heart tightens in his chest, the feeling of coming home after a long day.

  
  


_You're shouting. Stop it._

Ren demands, voice short and emotions locked away in his vault once again. Hux glares at him for a moment longer, unable to take his eyes away from the glint behind the eye slits in the mask. The feeling of Ren in his head again after so long had been strange, almost concerned about his thoughts.

_You shouldn't be in here, Ren._

“They're hit.”

Hux's head snaps around so quickly he hears his own neck crack at the action. He strides over to the officer who had spoken, leaning over to peer at her console. Not destroyed, but damaged badly enough that surviving the crash would be unlikely, even for the Resistance's lucky charm. Hopefully the droid would come running, bringing the map straight back to them, instead of leading the troopers on a wild goose chase across an absolute hell hole of a desert.

  
  


“Send a squad to the wreckage.”

He can barely keep the fury off his face as the crew around him scramble to repeat his orders to the few troopers capable of walking after the little firework display from the TIE fighter in the docking bay. Hux digs a finger into his right temple, head thudding beneath the pressure of a headache on the verge of becoming a migraine. He has not slept in sixteen hours, not since the weapon officially went live.

_There's caf for you on your console._

The thought is sent to him from far away, maybe as far as Ren's own quarters, but it is enough to jerk him out of his own head for a moment. Hux lifts his eyes and sure enough, resting in the cup holder, is a freshly poured cup of strong caf. No doubt just the way he likes it, without any kind of sweetener or sugar.

_Thank you._

Nothing in response.

Hux forces himself to not let his expectations rise even a little.

  
  


******

Hux stands in the middle of his quarters, unable to continue pacing with the complaining muscles in his thighs, waiting for his comm to buzz with the news of Snoke's holo-call. He runs a hand down his face, thinking of how quickly things fall apart whenever Kylo Ren touches them. Not even being back on _Starkiller_ has improved his mood, the halls are colder and the weather absolutely foul, but at least he is as far from Ren as he can get without abandoning the First Order completely.

  
  


Millicent meows in his direction from where she's perched on his bed, keen eyes tracking his every move, uninterested in the bowl of food he had given her. She has never liked it here, prefers to roam the hallways of the _Finalizer_ searching for new scents. Sometimes, in his more sombre moments, Hux imagines she is hunting for Ren.

“You don't like my speech much, do you?”

Hux asks her. She tilts her head, eyes wide. A unwanted smile grows across his face, easing some of the tension pressing against his forehead. He has spent the last four years of his life reciting speeches to an unimpressed Millicent; some of his greatest have come with her opinion.

“I'll write you a new one tonight. You can give me your opinion then.”

  
  


A knock on his door.

Nobody knocks on the doors to General Hux's quarters, nor do they stride in moments later, as he is just about to move to the screen to see who it is. Kylo Ren walks into the room as if he owns the place, black cloak billowing and shoulders tight. It is then that Hux realizes he never revoked Ren's security access after the incident.

“What are you doing here?”

He manages to say around the sudden lump in his throat. Ren bends down to scratch the fur behind Millicent's ears as she darts over to his side, saying nothing in response.

“You have no right to be here.”

Hux adds, finding some of the internal anger he's been carrying around since this whole mess with the map started, forcing more ice into his tone. Ren lifts his head just enough to incline it to the right- the movement, at one point, had meant he was amused by the drivel coming out of Hux's mouth- with his gloved fingers still resting on the purring Millicent's head.

  
  


“Don't worry, General. I'm not here for you. Snoke has been in contact.”

Ren intones, his modulated voice almost completely free of emotion. It is the way he straightens up, back tense and shoulders strained beneath his robes that tells Hux what he needs to know. Ren is dreading this call almost as much as Hux himself.

“I can't imagine what you think you could do to me, Lord Ren.”

“We both know what I did to you.”

Hux pretends he doesn't hear the muttering as he reaches for his comm. Ren turns and leaves the room, not even waiting for him to catch up. That suits Hux just fine; he cannot find the energy to deal with his little childish habits today.

  
  


******

It has been a long time since Hux last saw Kylo Ren without his helmet.

That is his instant thought as he steps into the holo-chamber, the adrenaline from his speech almost gone in the midst of yet another failure (really, taking the girl when they could have just taken the droid on Takodana). He can see the back of Ren's dark hair as he shouts up to the hologram, wildly waving his arms in distress.

“And the droid?”

Snoke snaps, his dark lizard eyes gleaming. The scar on his face twists violently as he scowls. Hux makes his way up the steps, smirk growing on his face.

“Ren believed it was no longer valuable to us. That the girl was all we needed.”

The way in which Ren snaps in his direction is almost fearful, as if he has realized that without the helmet he is as vulnerable as the rest of them; his movement back to Snoke is just as equally pathetic. Hux meets his eyes in a glare, climbing the steps with an exaggerated confidence. He continues to speak, gaze directed completely at Snoke, eyes tracing the scar along his jaw.

_'I will give you something more than that, one day, old man.'_

He cannot stop himself from thinking. Ren jerks ever so slightly beside him, dark eyes cast down in shame to the floor beneath their feet. He looks exhausted, worn and strained in a way Hux has never seen before on a man not on the verge of death. Lines of stress have formed in his forehead, and around his eyes, making him seem ever so slightly older. Hux wants to reach out and smooth the lines away, to wrap his gloved hand into the hair at the back of Ren's neck and tell him the facts in a gentler tone than he normally would.

But that fantasy had ended long ago.

  
  


“We will crush them once and for all. Prepare the weapon.”

Snoke tightens his hand into a fist, face tense with fury. Hux can feel his displeasure rolling off him in waves, his legs are beginning to ache and there is a painful thud in his ears. Ren stops his shivering at Hux's side, stepping forward with huge, dark eyes- as if they will convince his master into doing anything.

“Supreme Leader, I can get the map from the girl. I just need your guidance.”

Ren almost begs, like a dog in the street, so desperate now to prove himself. Hux thinks of the plan, the one that had brought them so close together- how he would have utilized Ren's gifts to take down such an unforgiving and clearly incapable Leader. The plan had been seemingly perfect, though he can admit he had never took Ren finding out into account. Too late now, that ship had sailed long ago with the discovery and Hux has since put his plans to become the galaxy's Emperor on indefinite hold until this disaster is over.

He turns and leaves, unable to listen to anything else that may come out of Ren's mouth.

  
  


Hux is ashamed to say he lingers- just for a moment, barely a minute- at the doors of the holo-chamber, waiting to hear if any damage will be caused inside. He convinces himself it's natural to worry about the safety of the room and not the man inside it.

  
  


******

  
  


“Sir. The girl has escaped.”

“Why do they never send you to me with good news, Mitaka?”

Hux mutters, putting down his cup of caf on his console. Mitaka gives an awkward little shrug beside him, as if he has asked himself the same question many times.

“Have you seen Phasma?”

“No, sir. I will attempt to locate her for you now.”

Mitaka walks away to the other side of the bridge. Hux shakes his head despairingly at his back, picking up his cup to take another long sip. He opens the floor plans of _Starkiller_ as it stands now on his data-pad, searching for possible routes the scavenger could take to escape. If Ren doesn't find her and rip her apart from the inside for breaking free of him.

  
  


“Did you find Phasma?”

He calls. Mitaka just shakes his head slowly, squinting at his screen. A heavy feeling begins to settle in Hux's stomach, he is not used to feeling concern for his closest friend after so many years of seeing her as practically invulnerable.

“Find her.”

Hux begins to pace on the bridge, slowly at first but eventually gaining enough momentum that he creates a small breeze every time he passes the officers at their consoles. A scavenger- seemingly skilled in the Force without any prior training or knowledge of it's ways- roaming the halls of their base, Kylo Ren on her trail like a mad, overly confident bloodhound. Hux pulls the footage of the girl walking free of the interrogation chamber, blaster in hand and surprised smile on her face. He is instantly infuriated.

  
  


“Ren, report in.”

He can't stop the sharpness of his voice when the call goes unanswered. Ren never goes anywhere without his comm, though at first he had it permanently switched off during times he was most needed.

“ _I'm busy.”_

A modulated voice comes through eventually. Hux resists the urge to throw his comm piece at the wall in front of him, settles for pacing to the view-ports and back for the thirteenth time.

“I need to know the situation, you fool.”

“ _The girl has escaped and is wandering the base. There are rebels flying over-head.”_

Hux stops, runs a hand over his hair, staring out into the wild, snow coated landscape with a pensive expression. Rebels flying so close to _Starkiller_ could only mean one thing: the girl had powerful friends with half a Republic fleet behind them.

“Phasma is missing. We're about to declare a code blue situation.”

“ _Very well. Do it. Just don't obstruct my search for the girl.”_

“Oh, and Ren,”

Radio static but Hux knows that Ren is listening, intently, from wherever on the base he is.

“May the Force be with you.”

The surprise from the other man- breaking through the iron walls Hux has grown used to projecting his thoughts towards- reaches him easily enough. He lets a small smile grow on his face. Mitaka looks significantly less nervous this time when he approaches, no doubt bearing more bad news.

  
  


******

The first explosion rocks the entire bridge, enough to send thirteen of the officers standing to the floor. Hux hangs onto his console, eyes huge in a suddenly pale face, comprehension dawning in his mind. He knows what this is without having to even look at the footage on the few monitors still mounted to the walls.

“Sir...”

Mitaka is beside him. Hux straightens up enough to stare through the view-ports at the other end of the bridge. In the distance, too far for the naked eye to see, he has no doubt the Resistance are moments away from pouncing on their one weakness: the refresh rate of the shields. At the time of planning, seventeen years old and on the verge of graduating with honours, Hux had not seen the slight flaw as the largest problem facing his future life's work. Now, watching pilots from the Resistance fly into his base, Hux has never felt so ashamed of himself.

“Get my cat, get to a ship and leave.”

He demands as the next officer passes him by, hopefully one with high enough security clearance to actually get into his quarters, not that it matters. The man blinks, startled, before nodding and running in the opposite direction.

  
  


“I want you to find Phasma, right now. Tell her this is a code red.”

“But, sir.. where are you going?”

Mitaka practically squeals when the next explosion sends one of their monitors crashing to the floor in a shower of sparks and electrical wires. Hux rocks with it, mouth drawn in a grim, thin slash across his face, watching his cup of caf fall to the floor.

“I have my own business to deal with.”

  
  


******

“Come to me with Kylo Ren. It is time to complete his training.”

Snoke says, hands twisting in his lap like he is trying to choke the life out of some invisible being. Hux nods, flinches again as another piece of the holo-chamber crashes to the ground. He can hear alarms blaring on the floors above, the sound of screaming as the base begins to rip itself apart. Snoke vanishes with a buzz before the hologram projector drops to the floor no more than a foot away from Hux. He lets out a startled breath, squeezing his eyes shut as if that will block out some of what he can hear on his comm.

  
  


Most of the crew have begun to flee to the support ships, desperate to return to the _Finalizer_ alive. Hux does not blame them, he too would be on his own personal shuttle at this very moment, wrapped around Millicent (perfectly safe aboard the medic's ship, no doubt distressed at the sudden change in environment), and flying to safety. Instead, he thinks only of Kylo Ren: somewhere out in the snow, the world collapsing around him, with only a traitor and a scavenger for company. The Hux before the plan, before he had found something like love in Ren, would have left him for dead. Claimed to the Supreme Leader that Ren had perished before he could have reached him. Now, surrounded by his life's work as it breaks to pieces like bread in someone's hands, Hux simply lets out a sigh.

Reaches for his comm and dials a frequency he is not used to calling.

“Mitaka. Find me a ship and a pilot, we have one last thing to do.”

  
  


******

“How many ships have made it to the _Finalizer_?”

Using Ren's ship made a lot of sense, it was overly large and garish but exceptionally fast and had a better tracking system than any of the others. Hux imagines his words will echo over the soundless purr of the engine. Mitaka consults his data-pad, looking surprisingly pulled together for someone more prone to panic, without a second thought.

“Seven so far. We have four more in hyperspace, preparing to jump. We will be the twelfth to land.”

“Any word from Phasma?”

Hux strides to the front of the ship and back, the pilot barely gives him a second glance. The expression on Mitaka's face gives him a surprising amount of hope given the current situation.

“She has resumed acting control of the _Finalizer_ until you arrive, General.”

Hux smiles, still unable to comprehend seeing his only dream fall to pieces so quickly in front of his eyes, but he is pleased that she has survived. Hopefully she will move the ship far enough that the hull won't be damaged in the ensuing explosion (building his super weapon around a star may not have been the best plan, Hux now begins to think).

  
  


“There's a tracker on Lord Ren's belt, I want you to trace the signal.”

The pilot nods at his instruction, turning on the radar easily. For a First Order pilot, he is surprisingly relaxed in the face of an exploding planet, though Hux can only imagine the danger he's put this particular man through in the past.

“Easy enough to do, General.”

Hux drops down in the co-pilot's seat, running a hand through his (no doubt) ruined hair. The past twelve hours have been nightmare after nightmare, and he is beginning to see no end in sight.

  
  


******

There is snow in Ren's eyelashes, dusty white against the sharp blackness. His cheeks are sallow and pale, except for the raw red wound crossing from the left side of his jaw to just above his eyebrow on the other side. If not for the pool of blood around his shoulder and hip, and the wreck of his face, he would be almost beautiful. Hux is reminded of their first kiss- in this forest, perhaps in this very spot- two years ago; the brightness of Ren's eyes as he gazed at him with a smile, the rush of warmth in his own chest.

  
  


Ren's eyes flicker open, full of an agony Hux can't describe but can feel pounding against his temples, to stare at him with consideration.

“Do you remember?”

Hux asks, gentler than he thought himself capable after the events of the last week- he can still see the beauty of the weapon's beam as it crossed the sky, had seen the footage of the Hosnian system being destroyed only hours ago. Ren coughs thickly, Hux is convinced that he will see blood on his pale lips, but there is none. He remains almost focused, alert, through the pain. No more blood spills from the wound on his face.

_'Yes.'_

“Good. I do too.”

Hux can hear Mitaka and the pilot lowering the stretcher, preparing to carry it over to Ren as soon as they get it onto the ground. The cold beneath his knees is overwhelming, soaking into his trousers. Hux can feel himself shaking like a leaf beneath Ren's dark gaze.

  
  


_'I missed you.'_

Ren's voice is soft inside his head, like it had been in the early mornings aboard the _Finalizer_ , the two of them unwilling to rise for the day. Tears grow in his eyes, though if they are from the pain, Hux cannot tell. He reaches out carefully, presses his hand to the undamaged part of Ren's chest and listens to his heart beating.

“I'm sorry.”

Hux starts, voice pitched low. The planet may be collapsing around them, but this right here- right now- is all he can think of. These are words he needs to get out from beneath the weight in his chest.

“I'm not going to die, Hux.”

Ren croaks, dark eyes glistening with tears and hair dusted with snow, and at the corners of his mouth a small, if pained, smile grows.

“Let me finish. I know you're not dying.”

Hux snaps. Ren laughs softly, though it is enough to set off a new bout of painful, strained coughing. When it is over, he is still smiling.

  
  


_'Go on then.'_

“I just wanted to say that I love you. And I apologize for not telling you before.”

The smile on Ren's face grows ever so slightly, the feelings he pushes through their bond- the iron walls crumble, smashing apart, into pieces at Hux's words- is enough to tell Hux exactly how Ren feels.

“General, we need to leave.”

The pilot interrupts, sounding as if he would rather do anything than interrupt this moment. Hux glares at him, but moves back enough to allow the two other men access to Ren. He holds in a scream when they lift him onto the stretcher, though Hux can hear it echoing around his brain in a long, drawn out wail. It seems Ren is doing everything he can to keep it together, fists balled tightly, teeth digging into his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

  
  


_'Keep it together. We have a sedative on the ship, you'll be fine.'_

_'Don't go, Hux. Don't go away.'_

“I won't.”

Hux promises, unable to stop himself flinching as Ren screams when the stretcher is lifted onto the shuttle. The pilot shakes his head, as if trying to dislodge something from his ears. Trees behind them collapse as the ground beneath them give way to destruction, the planet is moments away from exploding.

  
  


******

_Starkiller_ completely collapses within a minute and ten seconds of their shuttle leaving the atmosphere. It explodes in a bright shower of red and yellow sparks, sucking in the space around it sharply. Hux watches through the view-ports disbelievingly as his life's work finally dies (when he had imagined the plan failing in his more pathetic moments, it had been with the echoes of opera music and a large explosion the whole galaxy would see).

_I'm sorry._

Ren murmurs from the stretcher beside him, drugged enough that even the voice in his mind is slurred. Hux turns away from the glass behind him, focusing completely on the man in front of him. Up close the damage looks so much worse: the wound to Ren's face will heal in a noticeable scar, even with the bacta strips piled upon it. Hux is more worried about the damage done to his shoulders and hip, particularly the wound to his hip, torn apart and ruined as the flesh is beneath his gaze.

“It's alright.”

_It's not._

Ren reaches out with a trembling, overly pale hand to clutch at Hux's own tightly. Hux cannot stop himself from running his thumb over Ren's fingers gently, trying to soothe the tension away from the other man.

“You've been shot and stabbed. This isn't about me.”

Hux mutters. They've almost reached the _Finalizer_ , securely under Phasma's tight and excellent control. Aboard there will be a freshly stocked med-bay to suit Ren's needs, enough drugs to keep him calm for hours and hopefully a shower that won't require Hux to stand up in.

  
  


_You came back for me._

“Of course I did, you imbecile.”

_You said you loved me._

“That's because I do.”

Ren's grip tightens significantly after Hux speaks, enough to make the bones in his hand grind. Mitaka has thankfully removed himself to the co-pilot's seat, out of the way of Ren's wrath should he feel the need to tantrum.

“We'll discuss this later, when you're not bleeding all over your ship.”

_'Of course.'_

And with that, Ren falls silent, still awake but calm. The hand around Hux's own relaxes ever so slightly. Hux pushes memories towards him without meaning too: as a child, peering out his bedroom window at the permanent rain of Arkanis, how it had felt to be inside on the days when it sounded as if the sky was collapsing beneath the water on the roof. Ren relaxes even more, soaking up everything Hux gives to him, and more.

  
  


******

  
  


Hux has only visited the med-bay aboard the _Finalizer_ twice in his twelve years aboard.

Once, to be at the side of a valued colleague and officer who had collapsed mid-way through a meal, from an infection to the stomach that he would never recover from.

The other, was to see Kylo Ren in the aftermath of _Starkiller._

  
  


“You're looking better.”

“You look worse than last I saw you.”

Ren croaks, though there is enough of a smile on his face that tells him the words are not harshly meant. He is propped up on a ridiculous amount of pillows, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. A week has passed. The first thirteen hours after the destruction had been spent with Ren unconscious and being pieced back together. Three hours later, he had been shouting profanities at the ceiling. Hux missed the majority of this: he had made it back to his quarters, pulled Millicent to his chest and collapsed into sleep for eight hours. He had, however, seen the damage to the lighting fixtures on his way to visiting the med-bay just this morning and cursed whoever passed down Force abilities.

“I”m going to pretend you didn't say that.”

Hux mutters, stepping into the room and closing the door with enough of a slam that sends the medical droids fleeing to the other side of the bay. He draws the curtain around the bed sullenly, only giving a small smile in Ren's direction when they're both firmly hidden.

_'How can I help?'_

“Get yourself well for starters, and stop smashing the lighting in my ship. We can't afford it at the moment, you should see the expense reports.”

  
  


Ren reaches out carefully, fingers lightly brushing Hux's own where they rest against the railing of the bed. The expression on his injured face is enough to make his heart tighten in his chest: it is the earnestness of years past, love and worry and calm mixed into one. Hux almost rises and flees the room, unable to see such an expression in the midst of such a personal disaster. Instead, he wraps his hand around Ren's gently.

“I'm sorry about _Starkiller_.”

“Not much you can do, Ren. Don't waste time thinking over it.”

Hux has. He has spent most of the cycles in this past week mulling over each and every mistake he had made with the base, with the crew, with the weapon itself. Considering the alternatives he could have performed to ensure only the loyal were placed aboard, the refresh rate in the shields should have been halved. He digs his free hand into his temples, destroying any semblance of calm he has been carrying from meeting to memorial service.

“You came for me.”

“Didn't we already have this conversation?”

Hux snaps. A single eyebrow rises, that is the only reaction Ren gives him. Unimpressed but willing to let Hux have his own childish moment under the circumstances. Hux finds himself stupidly grateful he has found someone like this, a man who understands him so well.

  
  


“You were under orders, I know that.. but you didn't have to say what you did. I wasn't going to die out there in the snow, I can promise you that.”

He feels his temper flare at Ren's words, his fragile nerves being grated at even further by just having to remember what happened in the snow. Hux may have been repressing the majority of _Starkiller_ 's collapse and diving head first into trying to solve the paperwork disaster it had created.

“If you think I spoke under the threat of you possibly dying-”

He doesn't get the chance to finish before Ren is leaning forward- hissing under his breath as he no doubt rips every stitch keeping his body together- to bury his hands in Hux's hair, forcing his gaze away from the blankets to meet dark eyes that say far too much.

“I realize that now. I wasn't my best self in that moment, I haven't been my best self in a long time. Not since the plan.”

“You mean _Millicent V_.”

Ren smiles, enough that the wound on his face begins to look painful again. Hux gently presses his own fingers into the hair at the back of Ren's neck, careful not to touch the burns from the lightsaber.

_Millicent V, yes. That's what I mean._

  
  


“I want you to know I still intend to rule the galaxy as it's Emperor, with or without your abilities.”

Hux pulls back, dropping his hands from Ren's hair. Ren does the same, wincing ever so slightly, a frown knitting his eyebrows together tightly. He looks better, healthier in the face- those first hours after landing had been horrific, Ren's grey skin had haunted him for days afterwards- if a little unsteady behind his eyes. He has no intentions of ever letting his dreams, achievable even without _Starkiller_ he is sure (once he is ready to poke that particular wound again), get between him and Ren again.

“Say I wanted to help you,”

Ren begins slowly, leaning back into his pillows, eyes gleaming beneath his mop of dark hair that has begun to fall into his face. He looks pleased, like a cat that just got the cream from it's unsuspecting master. Hux sits up straighter, pulls himself away from his rambling and depressive thoughts, to pay attention to the wicked look in Ren's eye.

“As at this moment it benefits me also, what would you say?”

  
  


Unbidden, memories are pushed forcefully towards Hux as evidence, Ren retreating as soon as he can see them clearly in his mind's eye. Han Solo (Hux can feel Ren's surprise, his horror and delight at seeing his father), the two of them talking on a bridge. The flash of overwhelming, human grief Ren had felt as he shoved his lightsaber into his own father's chest- how it had felt to hear his mother's soul scream out as his own did.

_'I killed my own father for him. To lose myself in the darkness. And I failed to rid myself of the Light, so why should I listen to his orders ever again?'_

Hux sucks in a breath, tugs his chair closer until he is almost face to face with Kylo Ren. The other man's face is shrouded with shadows from the curtain and his hair, but Hux can see the scar that begins in a sharp split at the bottom of his jaw, leading across over the left side of his nose and up into his eyebrow. Ren's eyes are like bottomless pits, like the moment that _Starkiller_ had been sucked into the void of space. Hux has never been so in love- never believed he could be- as he is in this moment.

“I would say, that I wouldn't want anything less.”

  
  


_To be continued.._

**

“ **Life ain't worth living without the one you love.” - Fare Thee Well, Inside Llewyn Davis OST**

  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr at huxsmurderbeam!


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